


Turned

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Section-Leader Watkins' prisoner seems to know far too much about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turned

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an AU where Zoë remained a companion through to Inferno, and travelled to the parallel world with the Doctor.
> 
> Based on an [ersatz genremixer](http://www.seasip.info/Misc/genremixer.html) prompt: Isobel / Zoë - mirror universe

Keeping her face in the carefully neutral expression that it was best for Republic soldiers to wear, Section-Leader Jezebel Watkins approached the cell block. As the two guards saw her, they jumped to attention and saluted. 

"At ease," she said. "Are the prisoners here?" 

"The girl is," one of the guards replied. "Section-Leader Shaw took the man to the Brigade-Leader's office about twenty minutes ago." 

"The girl will do. Book me an interrogation room." 

Within minutes, Jezebel was sitting behind a bare, steel-topped desk, listening to the approaching footsteps. She deliberately didn't look up as the feet entered the room and came to a halt. 

"Leave her here," she said, pretending to be engrossed in the contents of her notebook. 

Two sets of footsteps marched out, and the heavy door closed with a thud. 

"Sit down," Jezebel said. Only then did she look up at her captive: a slender, elfin brunette, wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Her attractive features were marred by a black eye, and there were a few grazes and welts on her bare arms and legs. Jezebel took a deep breath, and began. 

"Name," she said. 

"The same as last time you asked," her prisoner replied, sounding weary. 

Jezebel frowned. "When I ask a question, you will answer it clearly and concisely, or there will be consequences. Name?" 

"Zoë Heriot." 

"Occupation?" 

"Scientific assistant, United Nations Intelligence Taskforce." 

"Why did you come here?" 

"We came to your universe by accident." 

"How did you pass perimeter security?" 

"The TARDIS materialised within the perimeter. In the garage." 

Jezebel sighed inwardly. The girl wasn't budging an inch. 

"You know what will happen to you if you keep up this ridiculous story?" she said, out loud. 

The girl glanced at her bruises. "You've already given me a free sample." 

"Then tell the truth." Jezebel leaned forward. After reminding her of the stick, it was time for the carrot. "If you cooperate I can make it easier for you." 

"You mean a quick death." 

Jezebel smiled reassuringly. "There's no need to talk in those terms." 

"If the drilling isn't stopped, a quick death is the best everyone on this site can hope for," the girl said, her face serious. "Everyone on this planet." 

"Don't be silly. The world won't pop like a balloon just because someone puts a little drill into it." 

The girl nodded. "That's what Director Stahlmann said. Word for word." 

"He's an expert." 

"He's a patronising idiot," the girl said, with such vehemence that Jezebel almost found herself nodding in agreement. "Of course the world won't explode. But he'll set off a chain of volcanic eruptions that would make the Yellowstone caldera or the Deccan Traps look like a cheap firework. Some form of life might survive, but I wouldn't give humanity much of a chance." 

"You can't be sure." 

"It's all there in the mathematics. You can't argue with it." The girl looked at Jezebel. "Of course, maths isn't your strong point, is it?" 

Jezebel jumped to her feet. "I ask the questions!" 

"And I'm giving you honest answers, Isobel. You just refuse to accept them because they don't fit into your worldview." 

"My name is not Isobel." 

"Isn't it? Oh." 

"Why did you think it was?" There had been several points on which the girl's knowledge had been faulty or missing. Instinctively, Jezebel felt that one of them must be the key: the way to crack her cover story open. 

"Because that's what the version of you in my world is called." 

Jezebel walked slowly around the desk until she stood over her prisoner. "I don't like insolence." 

The girl looked up at her with an expression almost of sorrow. "I'm trying to help you. If that drill pierces the gas pockets you'll die. I don't want to see that happen." 

"Why not?" 

"If I tell you, you'll say I'm being insolent again," Zoë said glumly. 

Jezebel took her by the chin. "If you don't tell me, I'll have you beaten black and blue," she said. "You've got every reason to wish me dead. Why don't you?" 

"Because..." Zoë took a deep breath. "Because we're lovers. I know you're not my Isobel, but you're so like her I don't want to see you die." 

Jezebel let go of her as if she was red hot, and took a step backward. "Are you making a confession of sexual deviancy?" 

"If that's what this world calls it, then yes, I am." And Zoë's grey eyes met hers with what was clearly a challenge. "I know every centimetre of her body: therefore, by extension, every centimetre of yours. And I don't want to see that body hurt. I can only guess at what this world's done to you to make you who you are, but if you have anything in common with Isobel, I wouldn't like to see it destroyed." 

Jezebel turned away and walked to the door. Casually, she made sure it was locked and no-one was at the spyhole. 

"I can't go to my superiors with a story like that," she said. 

"You're worried that if I told them, they'd suspect you were a 'deviant' too?" Zoë asked. "But they wouldn't take the unsupported word of a prisoner. They'd need evidence. Or are you worried that if they investigated, the evidence would be found?" 

Jezebel wheeled round. "Silence!" 

"Listen," Zoë said. "The longer you stick around here shouting at me, the less time there is to stop that drilling. If you'd like me to blackmail you, I'm quite happy to. Do whatever you can to stop the drilling, or I'll tell the Brigade-Leader you tried to proposition me." 

"And how are you going to tell him anything, when I've got you all to myself?" Jezebel found herself walking slowly toward Zoë again. "I could arrange a little accident for you." 

"Yes, but then when the drillsite blows up you'll be kicking yourself." Zoë flashed her an unmistakeable smile. "I could be very valuable to you, Section-Leader. You don't want to waste a valuable resource like me." 

"Valuable in what way?" 

Zoë's smile widened. "If nothing else, does sexual deviancy appeal?" 

Jezebel instinctively darted another look at the door, then gave Zoë another hard stare. If Zoë thought Jezebel's loyalty could be subverted by a few sexual favours, she didn't know Jezebel half as well as she thought. But Jezebel might as well make use of the girl while she was here. 

⁂

"You little devil," Jezebel groaned. Zoë's claim to know her body intimately had certainly been proved to the hilt; she'd known exactly where and how to create the maximum effect with the minimum of effort. A thought penetrated Jezebel's numbed consciousness, and she made a grab for her discarded uniform trousers. 

"Dressing already?" Zoë asked. She was perched naked in Jezebel's interrogation chair, while her clothes were neatly folded on the desk. 

Jezebel pulled on the trousers, then fastened the gunbelt around her waist. "So much for your escape plan," she said. "Did you really think you could trick me like that?" 

"Like what?" 

"Don't play the fool, Zoë. You thought you could distract me and then pinch my gun and force me to let you go." 

"And you'd have called the guards and recaptured me in seconds." Zoë shook her head. "I'm not trying to escape from you. I'm trying to save you." 

Jezebel retrieved her uniform shirt. "I could almost believe you." 

"I wouldn't have done what I did if I thought your mind was completely closed." Zoe leaned forward. "I won't lie to you, Jezebel. I couldn't. Neither of us has much of a chance of getting out of this in one piece. But without me, you don't have any chance at all." 

"Then what do you suggest?" 

"Take me to the reactor building. Under guard if you like. And you watch Stahlmann, and listen to what he says, and see who you trust more. Him or me." 

Jezebel, slowly, nodded. "Agreed. But there's one last question. The other me. Isobel. Is she happy?" 

"She won't be if I don't get back to her. But in general, yes, I think she is." 

"Maybe I could've been, too." Jezebel put on her jacket. "Get dressed, you. I'm not taking you to the reactor like that." 

"Does that mean I've talked you round?" Zoë asked, obediently dressing. 

Jezebel nodded. "Don't ask me how." 

"Well, I had an unfair advantage. I know how Isobel thinks, too. I just had to extrapolate how it would apply to you." 

"This," Jezebel said, pulling her boots on, "could be the start of something..." 

"Wonderful?" Zoë suggested. 

Jezebel shook her head. "More like 'twisted,' I think."


End file.
